


A prize buck

by TheIceQueen



Series: Tired of fighting [10]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cute, Desus - Freeform, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Hunters & Hunting, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jokes, Kissing, M/M, Mild Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: -- Timeline: They have been together for seven months. They have lived together for four months. --Paul had wanted got with Daryl on a hunt for a long time. Daryl finally gives in and takes him deer-hunting.





	A prize buck

It was strange, having a pair of footsteps following him. Daryl was used to it being completely quiet on his hunts, and even though you would think a highly skilled soldier should be able to practice stealth, there was something clumsy about the way Paul made it through the twigs and leaves. Somehow Daryl didn’t mind and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Daryl stole a quick look over his shoulder. Paul sent him a serious look, with a glint of something else in his eyes.

“Keep up, will ya. You’re falling behind.” Daryl whispered but it wasn’t quiet at all. The boat had clearly sailed on that one.

Paul made a pouty face. “But I like the view back here.”

Daryl shook his head with a surrendering sigh and turned back to the task of following the deer he’d been tracking for the past twenty minutes.

“We’re getting close. How about you try to be quiet for once in your life.”

The footsteps behind him silenced just as if Paul had disappeared. Daryl tried concentrating about the trail, but half his brain were listening to hear if Paul was even still behind him. He _knew_ his ninja boyfriend couldn’t have been so bad at sneaking up on something. The problem was that now it felt like he was sneaking up on _him_.

When the dear appeared a bit longer ahead, all Daryl’s attention focused on that, he raised his hand to signal Paul, and stopped.

The firm grip on Daryl’s ass made him jump and he only barely managed not to yelp out loud. After a deep breath he’d gathered enough control that he could whisper to the guy.

“What the hell, Rovia?!”

“Sorry, I didn’t see you stopping. My hand just… landed there.”

Daryl wondered why the hand was still there if it was an accident. The lusty look on Paul’s face made Daryl’s insides warm and mushy, but they were on a hunt. Paul had begged him to teach him for weeks.

“This is my work remember? If I don’t bag anything we wont have anything to sell.”

“You’ve gotten way too serious after you got that approval.” Paul squeezed a bit tighter. “I don’t see you anymore.”

Daryl had been gone for _one_ weekend, weeks ago. Otherwise, he’d mostly been hunting when Paul was at work. He looked at the dear. It was a wonder it hadn’t bolted yet. For a second, he contemplated if it was deaf or just not all there in the head, but a dear wouldn’t get to grow that big with those issues.

“Get down.”

Daryl pushed Paul down with a hand on to of his head, and laid down beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room between Paul and the big oak tree. Surely, Paul had planned that. Paul moved in closer and Daryl ended up with his arm over Paul’s back and one leg down between the soldier’s.

“Rovia. Move. I can’t possibly shoot like this.”

“But it’s cold on the ground.” Paul shifted and tugged himself closer to underline his defense. “Besides, I thought you could shoot that thing from anywhere at any time.”

Daryl sighed loudly and tried to get comfortable with the placement of the crossbow. The dear was listening, it had to be now, or it would run and there would be nothing to take home. With a long slow breath Daryl lowered his head to take aim. His and Paul’s lungs working in unison and making Daryl find a rhythm. Slowly he pressed the trigger.

“Shit!”

The arrow flew five feet over the target and the dear sprinted out of sight. Daryl rolled to his side and grabbed Paul’s wrist and pulled it away from his privates.

“What the fuck?!”

Paul looked teasingly at him. “I thought I’d help you relax. That usually does the trick.”

“You’re a pain. You know that?”

Daryl scrambled to his knees and tried not to knock a laughing Paul over the head with the bow in the prosses. Paul grabbed Daryl’s shoulder and stilled him with a look that did nothing to hide the amusement in his eyes.

“I don’t need a dear. I already have my trophy buck right here.”

With both hands on Daryl’s shoulders, Paul pulled himself up to meet the hunter’s lips. Daryl’s arms were preoccupied with holding himself up, so he could do nothing but stay still and accept how the soft contact with Paul’s tongue grazing his lower lip, calmed his heartbeat. The image of the deer running away, vanished from his mind as he closed his eyes. Screw the hunt.

When Daryl again opened his eyes Paul’s hands were lightly holding the hunter’s neck, fingers buried in his hairline. He was on his back looking up at him with a smirk on his face.

After Paul dropped his arms to the ground, Daryl stood up and got it together to speak again. He pulled Paul to his feet and copied the mischief on his face the best he could.  

“Now, what are we going to bring home?”

“I already told you. I have my prize.”

Daryl picked up the crossbow and brushed a few leaves of his knee. “Well, you can’t carry me back to the truck. Never bag a game so big you can’t handle it.”

Daryl had never had his hands on his sides like this, but it kinda seemed fitting in this ridiculousness to try and look determined like this. The elevator-look Paul studied him with was not helping his confidence, though.

“I can carry you there. It’s not that far.”

Daryl huffed. “Yeah right. Look I know you’re strong...” Daryl paused and took a second to appreciate the wide shoulders and the biceps pressing at the thin dusty-green jacket. “…but you wont even get me off the ground.”

“It’s not about strength you know? It’s all balance and it took us half an hour to get here in stealth-mode, so I can probably make it back in fifteen.”

With a less than patient sigh, Daryl shook his head. “You talk a big game. Let’s just…”

The shoulder against Daryl’s lower stomach blocked the rest of the words. In panic of continuing the path forward and hitting his head on the ground he grabbed on to the first he came near. If his crossbow wasn’t in a noose around his arm it would have fallen to the ground as both Daryl’s hands landed on Paul’s hips.

“What the hell?!”

“Bringing my game home.”

Daryl could hear the strain on Paul’s voice, through the laughter, and wondered how many steps he could take with him hanging over his shoulder like this, before falling to his knees. Paul wrapped his arms around Daryl’s thighs and knees and started walking.

“Rovia! Put me the hell down!”

Daryl could have fought his way down. Just shifted a little weight and pulled them both to the ground. But he was curious to see how far Paul would get before Daryl would have to carry him the rest of the way.

After a few minutes, not quiet at all, waking through the woods, Daryl was actually amazed that Paul was not even slowing down. He’d stopped talking, but Daryl was getting heavy in the head anyway and didn’t need the hassle of forming words anyway.

The bumps through his entire being with every step, made his head heavier. It didn’t help that the only sight he had was the ground moving under him and Paul’s legs and feet going in that same rhythm as everything else. Daryl was done, but if he did anything to get down himself now, he’d fall, and he’d fall _hard_.

“Rovia. You’ve proven your point.”

“Hang on… I see the clearing.”

Paul was winded; his voice was tired even though he hadn’t spoken in forever.

When Paul moved his hands to Daryl’s hips and started leaning forward, Daryl tensed and held on tight to his boyfriends belt, but as soon as his ass hit the cargo bed on his truck he relaxed and closed his eyes for a second.

Paul was sweating almost panting but had a smile on his face that Daryl had come to know a little too well. The smile that made the words, _I told you so_ , redundant.

“Dee. You’re driving. I’m beat.”

Paul sat down next to him leaning his head on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl wrapped an arm around his back and felt the heat radiating from the damp back.

“I’m dead. Remember?”

Paul lifted his head and looked at Daryl. The tired and made-up pitiful look on his face made Daryl laugh loudly. He leaned back and pulled Paul down with him.

“It’s going to be a warm night. Let’s just stay.”

Paul nodded against Daryl’s shoulder and rested his head on his boyfriend’s arm while turning to lie on his back.

“So, stargazing… a bit cheesy isn’t it?”

What the hell was with Paul today? Everything was a joke, not even peace and quiet was safe from ridicule. Daryl pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at Paul who was trying very hard not to laugh.

“What’s gotten into you. It was you who wanted to come.”

“It was.” Paul’s demeanor changed in an instant and Daryl jumped, _again_ , when Paul’s hand cupped his junk.

“It still is.”

Daryl was helpless, possibly still a bit woozy from the trip to the car, as Paul pushed him back and in the same motion got himself on top, one leg on each side.

“It’s the last time I’ll ever bring you on a hunt.” Daryl grabbed Paul’s face and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. “But you better be there when I get home.”

He pushed Paul back up and grabbed the man’s belt buckle.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still new to this whole cute fluffy thing, but I think they deserve it. Let me know what you think.


End file.
